


When I Get Down On My Knees, It's Not to Pray

by ragingrainbow



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Brad "Cheeks" Bell RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Held Down, In Public, Kink Meme, M/M, Makeup, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Public Sex, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragingrainbow/pseuds/ragingrainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Want you to suck me. Right here. Want you on your knees for me. Wanna watch in the mirror.” Adam bites Brad’s shoulder again, harder this time, hard enough to leave a mark. “Someone could walk in, but you’re still gonna get on your knees for me, aren’t you?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Get Down On My Knees, It's Not to Pray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sulwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sulwen/gifts).



> Fill for [this prompt](http://glam-kink.livejournal.com/3663.html?thread=2419535#t2419535) at glam_kink:  
>  _Bradam, clubbing in drag_  
>  So many awesome pics of Adam and Brad. Can I just get some porn about them all dressed up and fucking in a seedy nightclub bathroom or something?  
> Inspired by the pics from [this night](http://pics.livejournal.com/ragingrainbow/pic/00011f5p).  
> Thanks to aislinntlc for beta!

Adam is always nervous before these events. He can stand in front of the mirror for ages, picking at imperfections, trying to cover them with makeup and fabrics. In front of the mirror at home, he still feels like an awkward overweight high-schooler. 

It’s so, so different once he steps inside the club. Even on the way there, queueing up on the sidewalk outside, he starts to feel the change. It’s exhilarating. It’s addictive. It’s _freedom_.

Adam knows he’s gorgeous, can feel the hot glances that follow him as he struts around in his killer heels, tossing the black locks of the wig out of his face. He sees the way they glance at Brad, too, tiny and pretty as always, waist accented by a corset that is soft beneath Adam’s fingers. And Brad is his, totally and completely _his_. That feeds his confidence even more than the makeup and the curls and the high, high heels. 

Brad’s in high spirits, too, and flirty in a way that can make Adam see red, but tonight all his attention is on Adam, his eyes and fingers never far from fishnet patterned skin. 

“I love this on you,” Brad says, as if he hasn’t already made it obvious, leaning in close as they are swallowed in the pulsating sea of bodies on the dance floor. 

“You look hotter though,” Adam replies, pulling Brad even closer, kissing his chin before adding, “Would fuck you right now if I could.” 

Brad shudders against him, his eyes going dark as he looks up at Adam and licks his lips. 

“Tease.” He grinds his hips purposefully against Adam’s thigh, an easy, practiced roll that is a promise all in itself. 

“What? You want me to do it?” Adam licks at the shell of Brad’s ear and presses his hardening cock against Brad’s stomach, making Brad gasp. 

Brad presses even closer, heavy and pliant in Adam’s arms, and it’s intoxicating, knowing that Brad would totally let him do it. Adam runs his fingers over Brad’s back, tangles them in the lacing on the back of the corset as they keep swaying to the music, silent now, part of one huge pulsating mass of bodies. He probably could do it. He’s pretty sure no one would really pay them any attention if he did. 

Brad sighs softly, rubs his face against Adam’s shoulder, and Adam can’t resist running his fingers through the blond strands of Brad’s wig. The texture is weird, it reminds him of dolls hair. Oddly appropriate, he thinks, Brad sort of looks like a doll tonight. 

A doll that is suddenly shifting his hips in a totally distracting way, one hand creeping in between their bodies to rest low on Adam’s stomach. Adam slides his hand from Brad’s head to his throat, and Brad tips his head back oh so willingly, lets Adam claim him. 

Brad tastes sticky sweet, like the cocktails he’s been drinking, and his hands come up around Adam’s neck, desperate like he’s actually trying to pull Adam into himself. He shifts restlessly against Adam’s leg, and Adam just cannot take it anymore. 

“Restroom,” Adam growls as he pulls away, grabbing Brad’s hand. 

Brad’s eyes go wide, but he follows willingly, stumbling a little as he struggles to keep up with Adam’s wide stride.

The restroom isn’t exactly clean, but it’s not disgusting either, thank fuck, and Adam thinks it’s empty; he isn’t completely sure about the last stall but he really doesn’t care. It’s so much more important to get Brad pressed up against the door, to plaster himself along Brad’s back and savor the little surprised noise Brad makes. 

“Would totally have let me, wouldn’t you? Could have fucked you on the dance floor and you wouldn’t even care.” Adam punctuates his words with gentle bites to Brad’s shoulder, and Brad nods, sending little sparks straight to Adam’s dick. 

Adam brings his hand up, closes it around the back of Brad’s neck, feels Brad’s pulse strum quick and excited under his fingertips. He presses, just a little, and feels the responding shudder run all the way up Brad’s spine. 

“Want you to suck me. Right here. Want you on your knees for me. Wanna watch in the mirror.” Adam bites Brad’s shoulder again, harder this time, hard enough to leave a mark. “Someone could walk in, but you’re still gonna get on your knees for me, aren’t you?”

Brad makes a little choked off noise that sounds a lot like _‘yes, please’_ , tries to rock a little against Adam even though Adam is pressed in so close that there is no way he can find the friction he wants. 

“Baby,” Adam breathes into Brad’s shoulder, momentarily overwhelmed - as he often is - by how easily Brad responds to him. He mouths kisses along Brad’s shoulder, stops to lick over the mark left by his teeth. “ _Baby._ ”

Adam lets up a little, just enough to slip his free hand in front of Brad to cup his dick, the heel of his hand pressed firmly against the base. Brad whines, attempts to grind against Adam’s hand even though Adam still has him so trapped that it’s a lost cause. 

“Want to. Adam, _please_.”

There is a whine in Brad’s voice that Adam loves, that Adam knows means he’s ready, and he’s on his knees as soon as Adam lets him go, scrambles around Adam as Adam turns to rest his back against the door. 

Brad gets a mischievous look in his eyes when he gazes up at Adam, runs his gloved fingers slowly up Adam’s fishnet covered thighs. Teasing, giving back as good as Adam gave to him. They both know that Adam doesn’t have to let him, that if Adam grabbed him right now and fucked into his mouth he would open up and take it without protest. But Adam lets him have it his way this time, because Brad’s on his knees on those dingy tiles looking more gorgeous than a wet dream. 

“What if someone does walk in?” Brad asks, bringing Adam’s dress out of the way to nose at his dick. “Would you make me stop?” He pauses, his hand a gentle pressure on Adam’s inner thigh as he looks up at him. 

“Nope. Would give them a show, baby,” Adam replies, brushing a hand over Brad’s cheek, around to the back of his neck, just resting it there. 

“Hot.” Brad grins, pleased and a little cocky, as he runs his fingers along the netted and laced outline of Adam’s dick. 

Adam shudders, fights his instinct, the overwhelming want to just grab Brad and get off. It doesn’t help when he catches a glance in the mirror, sees what others would see if someone was watching. He almost hopes there actually is someone in that last stall; some faceless person who’ll jerk off as he watches them. The thought startles a laugh out of him. It gets caught in his throat when Brad stretches forward, mouths open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, the heat of his tongue nothing more than a tease of sensation through the thin, soft fabric of his underwear. 

Adam thrusts forward automatically, chases the promised pleasure even as Brad hooks his thumbs in the elastic of his tights, rolls them down over his hips. He pauses for a moment to glance up at Adam through long, long lashes before he continues with his underwear.  
Brad starts with his hand, closes satin-gloved fingers around Adam’s skin, the drag of them perfectly torturous. He brings his fist back all the way to the root, holds it there as he licks at the head, pulling a soft whine from Adam. 

Brad likes to tease, can keep it up for what feels like hours to Adam, can take back control as easily as he hands it over and unravel Adam so, so slowly until Adam barely remembers his own name over the want and need and _please_. 

But now is not the time or place for teasing, so Brad just places a quick kiss on the head before he sucks it into his mouth, swirls his tongue around, finds all the most sensitive spots. Adam’s hips stutter as he tries to fight the need to thrust, to let Brad set the pace, even though he knows it’s always a losing battle.

Brad continues to lick around the head for a bit before he takes more of Adam’s length, stroking his fingers over the skin his mouth can’t cover as he traces his tongue along the vein on the back. Adam rocks forward a little when Brad starts sucking, wet and noisy like something straight out of porn. 

Adam tries to focus on the reflection in the mirror, rests a hand on the back of Brad’s head just because he loves how large it looks there, loves the way he towers over Brad. He manages to just stare for a while, fleetingly wondering when he became someone who looks like sin and has a boyfriend who’ll get on his knees for him in seedy nightclub restrooms, before the head of his cock hits the back of Brad’s throat and he really can’t think at all. 

Adam loses his last tentative grasp on self control then, starts thrusting, his hand still on the back of Brad’s head to hold him still. And Brad opens up to him, lets him take what he needs, his hand moving to caress Adam’s balls even as he almost chokes on Adam’s length. 

Adam’s only distantly aware of the broken noises spilling from his mouth as he comes, too far gone to release his grip on Brad’s head. It would only be courtesy anyway, because Brad loves to swallow. The only thing he loves more is getting it all over his face, but Adam really doesn’t want to ruin his makeup. 

It’s sort of ruined anyway, Adam realizes when Brad has rearranged Adam’s clothing and stands up. There’s more of his lipstick around his lips than on them now, and Adam wipes at it with his thumb. 

Brad snakes his tongue out, licks Adam’s thumb and thrusts his hips against Adam’s thigh. He’s so hard, and Adam really wants to return the favour, wants to taste and savor him. But Brad’s sort of imprisoned in his tight catsuit, and seems more interested in rubbing off against Adam anyway. Adam brings his hand down, cups Brad to give him more friction. 

It’s frenzied, and quick, and Adam has to wrap his other arm around Brad to keep him upright as Brad claws at him for support, grasps onto the chains around Adam’s neck. He makes a strangled noise as he comes, faint heat against Adam’s hand just as Adam remembers that Brad isn’t even wearing any underwear. 

“That can’t be comfortable.” Adam says, catching their reflection in the mirror, realizing that his own makeup hasn’t fared very well either. 

Brad chuckles, kisses Adam’s chest. 

“Totes worth it though.”

Yes, Adam thinks. _Totally_. He’s still not sure about that last stall. And he still doesn’t care.


End file.
